


Equinox

by empireant



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fashion Designers AU, M/M, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, all Mingyu pov this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 16:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12369843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empireant/pseuds/empireant
Summary: Skater brand "The8" and luxury label "Kim Co." collaborate for a winter collection.





	Equinox

**Author's Note:**

> I'm studying design so I might as well put that info to good use right
> 
> And by "good" I mean absolutely terrible I'm so sorry GyuHao lmaoo read at ur own risk buddies!

"He probably thinks I'm a snob." Mingyu whines to Chan, whose response is to give him a blank look and say, "Well, maybe _he's_  a snob."  
  
"Why do we have to collaborate? Our brands aren't even similar..." Mingyu grumbles as he styles his bangs in a tall mirror for a third time.  
  
Chan stands back to survey how satisfied he is with Mingyu's suit. As his personal stylist, he wasn't going to let Mingyu out, for arguably one of the most important business meetings of his life, dressed any less than marvelous.  
  
"You're collaborating because you like money." Chan makes a face at the way Mingyu fusses over his buttons. "And your brands are two of the biggest names in style right now. It would be sad to bail on this opportunity Mr. Wen put together for us."  
  
Mingyu nods at last, facing that he can ride it out with that likely condescending fellow 22-year-old designer for a few months, if it means his reputation will rise. All is fair in the name of business and he's had to make sacrifices before. What's one more?  
  
"Don't be awkward!" Chan yells after him when he's finally walking out the door. "And please watch your step!"  
  
As if he could somehow switch himself off.  


* * *

  
  
Having met only a few times before in passing, Mingyu expects the guy to be just the same. Aloof. Elusive. Silent.  
  
Most times he's seen Xu Minghao, it's been in the audience for a runway, accompanied by his assistant Mr. Wen, or no one at all. Sometimes in a hat, snapback or bucket. Sometimes in glasses, shaded or transparent. On the verge of too casual (if you ask Mingyu). Hardly _ever_  in a suit.   
  
Which really leads Mingyu to believe that the man has something against high class clothing. Even if the t-shirts, jackets, and jeans he usually sports seem expensive. (The articles he's read definitely prove that theory true.)  
  
First impression of a short and impassive "hello" in his mind, Mingyu walks into the CEO's building, expecting the same jaded expression of a man who doesn't want to converse with him, who barely looks him in the eye, and doesn't respond when asked to dance.  
  
_That_  was an embarrassing club event.  
  
"He's expecting you. Go right down the hall. The meeting room is huge, you can't miss it."  
  
Following the secretary's orders, Mingyu takes steady steps onto the reflective floor, hating how lonely the tap of his dress shoes sound in the ambience.  
  
Thank the heavens for clear glass walls, because it gives Mingyu time to stop before going in and observe. Maybe that's a little creepy, but he's doing it to protect his image. The CEO of Kim Co. won't stroll in there with a friendly smile to clash against a cold glare from his brand rival. He needs to assess the situation first. Strategy can be essential to many parts of life other than business.  
  
That's how it has to be.  
  
A thin gold chain hangs around Minghao's neck, and it's funny to Mingyu that the accessory is as scrawny as the man himself. His clothing is all black, which seems to be the skater style these days. As for the rest of him, another strange contrast about Minghao is the youthful face. Despite the attitude of a tight-lipped industry senior, there's a stubborn energy to him that illuminates his skin and makes him look fiercely invincible, paired right along with the air of vanity.

It's interesting.  
  
That's what Mingyu decides to call it.  
  
He figures there's no more time to waste and guides himself to be bold, turning the handle and presenting a professionally acceptable smile.  
  
"Hello Mr. Xu." He bows before approaching him to extend his hand.  
  
Minghao puts down the phone he was scrolling through, and seems to ditch the apathy for an attempt at engagement.  
  
"Hello Mr. Kim." He shakes his hand. "Please have a seat."  
  
For a while, Mingyu thinks they might get along nicely. This biz-savvy Minghao doesn't seem like the same guy who gave him a cold shoulder in Roa's club. He's to the point. A good listener.  
  
Until he's not.  
  
"In theory, _sure_ , people can skate in dress pants." Minghao pushes his bangs back in a mildly attractive way (even if he's fuming currently). "But that's not marketable to the masses!"  
  
"And I'm telling you it doesn't have to be!" For a while now they've been trying to identify an article of clothing to combine their tastes onto, but the division of preference almost feels impossible to climb over. "This is a," Mingyu gestures between them, " _collaboration_. We have to meet _somewhere_  and I'm not dropping the exclusivity of my line to meet the demands of _teenagers_."  
  
He's never collaborated with another brand before and there's a million reasons why, but number one is simply the fact that he doesn't want to lower the class he spent years establishing.  
  
"How dumb do you have to be, to think only teenagers know how to use a board?" Minghao says with a scowl, leaning back to cross his arms.  
  
The insult at his intelligence is a slingshotted pebble to his biggest insecurity, so Mingyu lets loose the first retaliation (and worst) that comes across his brain.  
  
"You're as stuck up as I knew you'd be."  
  
Bitterness worse than a shot of lemon coats his mouth once he's said it, and surprisingly there's no pleasure in seeing Minghao freeze up. Not the kind of cold of someone who's disinterested, but the shock of offense.  
  
Regret is beginning to drown him, and Mingyu wants to say something, but he spends too long thinking of a reply.  
  
"...We can try again another time." Minghao says, standing up. His brows aren't furrowed in anger and his voice is spiked with a weary disinterest. "We will contact you soon." He leaves briskly, allowing Mingyu a sole moment to groan in despair.  
  
Chan is going to be disappointed.

* * *

  
  
"Ah Mingyu..."  
  
"The8 contacted _me_ , remember?" Okay so he knows he's being petulant about it, but it's easier to remember a mean comment more than it is to face his underlying thoughts. "What, did they think I was just going to bend over if they asked me to?"  
  
"That's...don't you think that's an unusual choice of metaphor?" The ends of Chan's lips curve upward.  
  
"What are you implying?"  
  
"Is this because you still find him attractive?"  
  
"What? No! No."  
  
Lee Chan chuckles loud and wide. "He was the brooder you tried chatting up a few weeks back isn't it? At that after party in Itaewon?"  
  
"Young man, jumping to conclusions is bad! Very bad!"  
  
"Oh my god. Wow." Chan shakes his head with a tsk sound. "Now he's _really_ never going to talk to you."  
  
Mingyu's mouth forms a lopsided frown. "Why don't you love me, Chan?"  
  
"Because your awkward crush is going to lose us the deal of a lifetime."  
  
Sulking even further, Mingyu presses a nearby pillow to his chest.  
  
"In all honesty, if you can't go through with it, then don't bother. We're making plenty anyway." Chan painstakingly stretches out his hand to pat Mingyu's knee unnaturally. "And get over that guy, because you deserve better."  
  
Proving himself a wonderful companion again, Chan becomes Mingyu's next target. He drops the pillow, smothering him with a hug.  
  
"When did you get so wise?"  
  
"Like, a week into working with you."  
  
"Puberty treated you poorly."  


* * *

  
  
A few weeks later, there's a birthday bash being held for Pledis rapper, Vernon. It's the first time Mingyu gets an invitation to meet this celebrity, so he pushes the stress away in favor of bringing out his excitement. He thrives best in social situations, surrounded by many possible new friends, and doesn't want his good mood dampened by some conceited wannabe bad boy.  
  
At the pool house, there's pretty people _everywhere_. And he's entirely relieved when someone off to the corner catches his eye.  
  
His eyes trail up the long legs and admire the jacket fit, but then pause when the guy turns around.  
  
Of course it's Minghao. Again.

His hair is dyed a new color, which explains why he wasn't instantly recognizable. It's not crimson anymore, but dark brown. And Minghao still infuriatingly looks ethereal. His fairy ears are adorned in platinum hoops and streaming chains, metal wrapped around his lithe fingers, and ripped jeans matched with a suede hazel jacket.  
  
But even the flashy accessories don't draw away from his face.

Because his eyeshadow is a touch of light bronze, and when he blinks, his eyes become magnetizing smoky quartz stones, fueled by the double impact of the earthy tones.

A surprisingly genuine, lively smile grows on his lips exactly as Mingyu begins to linger on them.  
  
Vernon it seems is a friend, because he pulls in Minghao for a tight hug, an act he's _never_  seen the CEO do, and for that alone his stomach twists so much that he turns away so he's not intruding on the intimacy.  
  
"Oh Mingyu! Are you enjoying yourself?"  
  
Welcome distraction number one is Mr. Wen. The assistant with the unnecessary hand movements.  
  
He responds kindly, eager to ignore the weird feelings. "Yes, I am! How about you?"  
  
"I'm having a great time too." Junhui's pleasant expression makes him believe that maybe the conversation is friendly babble. But that hope is disproved shortly.  
  
"Minghao wants to see you."  
  
The way it's phrased makes itself at home, crawling under his skin.  
  
"When do you have open spaces in your schedule, Mr. Kim?"  
  
"Sunday." He stammers out.   
  
"Can't do Sunday. Charity event."  
  
"Charity event?"  
  
Junhui nods. "We do it every few months. Minghao is hosting a dance competition in the Manhattan location this time. The proceeds from the merchandise sold go to funding schools. It changes depending on the month."  
  
"I wasn't aware..."  
  
"Sometimes it's the local animal shelter, or a world organization," he rolls his wrist, "or... well, you get the picture." Junhui shrugs with one shoulder. "Maybe only the loyal customers keep up with the events. How about next Tuesday?"  
  
"Um. Tuesday should be fine."  
  
"Wonderful! Same time as the last meeting." With a wave and pivot of his heels, he's lost again in the crowd.  
  
As well as Minghao. The ever elusive and mysterious, _charity-funding_ , athletic snob.  
  
But he'll see him soon anyway.

* * *

  
  
"Tiger JK, Yoon Mirae, and Tymee reportedly dressed in The8 wear."  
Chan keeps his eyes glued to the tablet screen, subtly judgemental even without having to size him up. " _And_ none other than your dear actor friend, Kim Kibum."  
  
Mingyu's breath catches. " _Key?_ "  
  
"Company value climbed up."  
  
"That traitor!" Mingyu cries.  
  
"Not to scare you or anything...but what are you going to do if the rest of the actors start trading in your clothes for Minghao's?"

Chan waits for a reply. Receiving nothing but a stuffy lull. 

"It's a possibility now. But you're the expert here, right? What do I know about fashion after all..."

* * *

  
  
"He's expecting you. Door on the left."  
  
Mingyu can't remember if it's the same secretary from last time, but he knows what corridor awaits him, which door handle to turn, and who sits in a pricey chair with a smoldering look.

The threat of losing his empire, no matter how far-fetched, is enough to propel him into overdrive. He's a _professional_ and will not allow an insignificant argument to stand in his way of success.

New strategy: begin anew.  
  
"Can we start over?" He asks once he meets his rival a second time. "Hi. I'm Kim Mingyu, it's nice to meet you." He moves his hand forward confidently.   
  
"I'm...Xu Minghao...." He seems to blink out of the surprise, grip increasing in strength. "Sit. Can I get you anything?"  
  
  
  
  
Not long after, they're arguing again.  
  
"No, no, no!"  
  
"I'm serious!"  
  
Minghao hand rests against his own cheek. "No way you asked the new Gucci CEO to call you sunbaenim." He shakes his head adamantly. "Don't believe it!"  
  
"You can ask him yourself." Mingyu visibly trembles at the memory. "Really, I'm lucky he didn't know Korean."  
  
Minghao drops his chin into his palm, and wistfully sighs. "You are truly remarkable, Mr. Kim."  
  
He must look some sort of startled, because Minghao's eyes widen a bit while their gazes are joined, and he pulls away clearing his throat. "Off track. Back to work." Minghao taps the sketchbook with the end of his pencil. "What to do..."  
  
"Calling me 'Mingyu' is okay." He replies belatedly. Once his heart has slowed down again.  
  
"Okay. Mingyu."  
  
The pair settle for trying out the logo first, before trying to decide what article to print on. Eventually resigning to opening up their laptops on the heavy table.  
  
"Digital programs are so complicated." Minghao uncharacteristically complains out loud. He's more vocal now, much more open than he's seen before, and the change is still slightly jarring.  
  
"Having trouble there?" Mingyu sits next to him before the man even answers.  
  
"I updated it yesterday and can't find the lasso tool..."  
  
"Let me help." Mingyu extends his arm over Minghao's, clicking away until he's satisfied.  
  
"There. Nothing to it." He grins and Minghao beams, earnestly grateful, in return. The kind he accidentally witnessed at the party with Vernon, but also, not precisely the same.  
  
He moves back, in what he hopes isn't a noticeably hasty manner.  
  
"Thank you." Minghao's hand brushes against his shoulder. "This is a perfect collection name. I'm really getting inspired now." He puts his hand on his chest. "I can feel my heart beating faster."  
  
"I...I think I can too."  
  


  
"Do you still use this program? Don't you have an in-house graphic designer?"  
  
"Yeah..." Minghao rubs at his neck. "But I need this application for photo editing."  
  
Mingyu, who had remained beside him, leans his elbows comfortably on the table surface. "Not sure what you mean."  
  
"I like taking pictures of stuff."  
  
"Can I see some?"  
  
The gallery on his phone might as well belong to a museum, because there's all kinds of shots for gardens, rivers, trees and skies that make Mingyu forget he's a fashion designer, but remember that the job requires an eye for visual harmony. And this guy has it down.  
  
"One of my friends is a curator for an art show soon, if you're interested."  
  
Minghao takes the invitation instantaneously. "When? It's been a while since I've visited one!"

 

  
  
  
"That's Jeon Wonwoo." He thinks to greet him and is on his way when Minghao says, "I'll just, uh, go ahead."  
  
He wants to say "you don't have to," but then he'd look desperate, and if Wonwoo saw him, there'd be no point in living anymore.  
  
Wonwoo peers above his glasses. "Hey. Who's your friend?"  
  
For a second he dwells on whether to correct him on _friend_ , but lets the denial die out on its own. "CEO of The8."  
  
They simultaneously stare at his back, an emerald scaly dragon stitched onto his bomber jacket, and Mingyu thinks the style suits him _very_ well. He muses on what the fabric could possibly feel like beneath his fingertips. If it's soft or stiffer than he thinks. Whether Minghao prefers to hand wash or dry clean....  
  
"Huh." Wonwoo says.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't know. I thought he'd be uglier." Amusement dissolves previous impassivity. "There's something cute about him."  
  
Mingyu keeps his gaze on the back of Minghao's head for a second longer. "There's actually a lot cu— " But then he faces his friend.  
  
Wonwoo's grin grows wicked.  
  
"—of p-people here." He swerved the sentence fairly well, but Wonwoo is just too smart for everyone.  
  
"Tell me. How long have you two been _collaborating?"_  
  
"I don't like the look on your face, Wonwoo."  
  
"Fair enough. I don't like your face either."  
  
Mingyu groans for what feels like the billionth time in the past two months. His friends really don't hesitate to rip him apart.  
  
"I'm going to join Minghao."  
  
"Plan on holding his hand too?"  
  
"Please shut up."  


 

  
Up close, Mingyu realizes the first thing he was very wrong about.

Minghao is never bored.

The designer points out details enthusiastically when he sees a piece he likes. Laughs at structures he finds entertaining. Rambles bits about his hometown when a color provokes a memory. It seems the overhead lights of the runway may have been too bright, if they overpower the constant shimmer of wonder in Xu Minghao's eyes. And that vigor centralizes from his curiosity and love, not youth. Mingyu can finally put his finger on it.

Minghao isn't invincible, and he doesn't believe he is. He's just determined, and that's because he's passionate.

Not so different from Mingyu himself.

Minghao is stiffly silent when he observes a stack composed of toy automobiles, every one dipped in pastel colored paint.  
  
"How does this formation make you feel?" Mingyu figures there's no harm in asking. It'd be awkward if he didn't try to talk right?  
  
"Hm." Minghao bends to get a closer look. "Like I'm missing out on the world of cars." He blinks at a tiny baby blue Corvette. "Maybe I should get my license. Then I'll know what the secret is."  
  
"You can't drive?"  
  
Minghao shakes his head, shoulders shaking with shy laughter.  
  
"Well you _are_  missing out! Long drives help me clear my mind sometimes. I'll take you out."  
  
Again, his mouth runs before his brain catches up, and he's going to begin melting from the humiliation before Minghao replies, "That would be nice."

* * *

  
  
Twinkling stars wink back at them as they lay in the sand, accompanied by the gentle crash of waves onto the shore.  
  
"I can teach you to drive if you want."  
  
"Only if you don't mind."  
  
"I don't mind."  
  
He likes Minghao.  
  
He's constellation Scorpius visible on rare nights. He's the undeterred sea. He's a cool comforting wind.  
  
He's the skateboarding artist with a weak spot for kids, animals, and summer flowers.  
  
"What will it take for you to go out with me?"  
  
"We are out."  
  
"On a date."  
  
From the corner of his eye, he sees Minghao grab a handful of sand, and he fears the load is headed for his face, until Minghao just releases it again. Forming a little mound by his torso.  
  
"I thought this was one." Minghao shifts around, sighing in comfort. "But yeah," He draws out a shape in the sky. "Let's make it official."  


* * *

  
  
Whenever they walk hand in hand into a room there's whispers of _I thought they hated each other_ , Junhui says  _he really likes you_ , and they're a trending topic on twitter for an uncomfortable amount of time. The paparazzi practically double and Minghao does his fair share of hiding behind people and shoving Mingyu with him to avoid the prying eyes of the media.  
  
They dodge all questions about their relationship for months, miraculously until winter arrives and their new line of bomber jackets is to be revealed.  
  
The press conference is full of thirsty reporters, hungry for the first hand scoop on the most influential fashion icons of the year.  
  
"So when was the first time you two met?"  
  
Minghao doesn't jump at the question, so Mingyu answers.  
  
"The first time I saw him was at a club actually. The8 was on the verge of becoming massively popular." He turns to fondly look at Minghao, who offers him a supportive smile. "And there he was. This guy with golden hair and a long necklace. He was so beautiful."  
  
At least two people obnoxiously whistle.  
  
"And then when I asked him to dance, he didn't even look at me." He laughs, too close to the microphone, but Minghao joins along too.  
  
Still holding his gaze, Minghao speaks into his own mic. "It was a club! I couldn't _hear_  you."  
  
"I know, I know." Mingyu places a hand over his. "And that's that. Next question?"  
  
"Why did you decide to release four separate designs?"  
  
"Minghao can answer this one."  
  
"We have the couple jackets—in the black and grey—and then there's the separate two, made for anybody, single or not. It's an effort to be inclusive."  
  
"Who created the drawings on the back?"  
  
Mingyu beams. "We both did! I drew the sun and Minghao the moon."  
  
"People are lined up around your stores without even knowing the title for your collection. Will you unveil the name today?"  
  
"Glad you asked." Mingyu squeezes Minghao's hand, encouraging him to give the answer. Minghao nods, and leans in.  
  
"It's called MM."

**Author's Note:**

> Mingyu and Minghao are coming for my bias list. Leave me alone u nerds.
> 
> Wrote this on a whim in a few hours during a random burst of energy so that's my excuse okay pls have mercy
> 
> Also, Minghao's bday is coming up and I'm more excited for his than my own


End file.
